


Next Year in Manhattan

by meredyd



Series: Holidays in the Heights [1]
Category: In the Heights - Miranda
Genre: Gen, Jewish Holidays
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-10
Updated: 2017-04-10
Packaged: 2018-10-17 03:06:21
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 556
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10585140
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/meredyd/pseuds/meredyd
Summary: “The,” Nina says, “The what?”“The Bodega Seder Plate,” says Usnavi, as if this is the most obvious thing in the world, which it is.





	

Usnavi has considered Nina’s homecomings move with the weather. This time she brings with her not a heat wave but a late March cold snap. It should be spring, but people are hustling past his windows with their coats pulled up to their ears and clutching hot coffees like beacons. 

The bells ring as Nina enters the store with a rush of chilly air, barely balancing her huge duffel suitcase. Usnavi looks up from the recipts to her flushed grin. 

“Nina Rosario! Am I really your first stop? What an honor.” He holds out his hands for her bag and lets out a heavy breath when it lands in his arms. “Are you hiding a body?” 

“Actually, I stopped at Claudia’s first,” Nina says, quietly. “By accident. Like I couldn’t even remember until I got there she wouldn’t—“ She presses her lips together in a tight line. “Anyway.”

“Anyway,” Usnavi says, dropping it behind the counter and squeezing her hand. “You look great.” She does. She looks like she’s actually slept in the past year is what he means to say, and the little lines of worry are mostly absent from her face. But glass houses shouldn’t throw stones or whatever.

They’d normally sit on the stoop or the sidewalk, letting it get dark while they talked. Instead Nina hops up behind the counter and he makes her a coffee, black with one sugar, then rummages around while she warms her hands on it. 

“I made you something,” his muffled voice calls out from the floor. “Sonny and I made it together but of course I did most of the work.”

“Of course,” says Nina. “Vanessa is gonna be here in 20 minutes,” she adds. “Benny’s picking her up on his way. I think she’s mad at you for not re-directing me to her place. There’s a knife emoji.”

Usnavi reemerges proudly with something round, wrapped in tinfoil. “The Bodega Seder Plate.”

“The,” Nina says, “The what?”

“The Bodega Seder Plate,” says Usnavi, as if this is the most obvious thing in the world, which it is. “For you and Kevin and Camila. Take a look, it has all the parts, I just need to put the stuff on.” On a large paper plate Usnavi has drawn a series of circles in sharpie marker. 

Nina nods. “Walk me through it.”

One by one, he begins removing items from under the counter and placing them in the circles. “Regular matzoh. We figured you probably have to keep that the same. Coffee is the bitter herb. Crushed up platanitos!” 

“The haroset, instead of apples.”

“Still the smartest person I know. Scrambled eggs from the grill! We’ll add those later.” He was getting excited now. “Canned veggies. Don’t expire for four years, perfect for wandering in the desert.”

“Usnavi…is the shankbone,” Nina manages, her face pink with withheld laughter. “A _pork_ rind?”

“You make do with what you have. That’s the spirit of the holiday.”

He bumps his shoulder, gently, against hers. 

“Well, it’s perfect,” Nina says. “I love it.” She laughs in earnest now, and it’s a sound Usnavi is always glad to hear, before popping a chip in her mouth. They look out the window at the icy rain that’s started falling, the bridge lights and the evening windows somehow clear and bright through the fog.


End file.
